


Out of the Dark

by roane



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: First Time, Fluff, M/M, Morning After, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 04:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1675442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roane/pseuds/roane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has some second thoughts the next morning. But not about what happened, about what happened after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of the Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wintergrey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintergrey/gifts).



> [Evith Winter Grey](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wintergrey/pseuds/Evith%20Winter%20Grey) requested: "Steve/Sam. Morning after THE FIRST TIME." And after the AMAZING FIC he's been writing me lately, how could I say no?

“You know it’s not that I didn’t want you to stay, right?” The words spill out of him as soon as he hears the phone pick up, and he has just a second to hope he didn’t dial the wrong cell number.

“Sam?” Steve sounds awake, but only just. “What? I--what time is it?”

He cranes his neck to look at the cheap alarm clock on the cheap hotel nightstand. “Seven fifteen. Look, I just was thinking, you know. I didn’t want you to think that I--”

“Seven fifteen?” Steve groans, and the sound is _just_ enough like some of the sounds he’d been making right here in Sam’s room not five hours before that Sam closes his eyes. And _that_ doesn’t help, because then he’s got a visual to go with the audio: Steve’s face pinker than he’d ever seen it before, his eyes closed tight and his neck arched while their joined fingers wrapped around--

“You there?” Steve interrupts his thoughts, which is probably just as well, since the erection he woke up with isn’t going anywhere if he keeps thinking like that. “I said, it’s okay. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure? Cause I kinda thought I might’ve worn you out enough for more than five hours of sleep.” His voice takes on a husky edge that makes Sam squirm a little.

“Hey, just cause I don’t have super-stamina, don’t think I can’t keep up.”

Steve’s laugh lands right about square in the pit of his gut, which probably means Sam’s in much too deep. He hadn’t meant for them to wind up in bed at all. They had separate rooms for reasons, not the least of which was because Sam didn’t want his incredibly obvious attraction for Steve to ruin a good potential friendship. And having to watch Captain Freaking America wander around a hotel room in nothing but a towel might’ve put a strain on things. And also, put a strain on _things_.  

He just hadn’t counted on Steve’s not-quite-as-obvious (to Sam anyway) attraction to _him_.

When the man who is arguably the personification of American Ingenuity and Goodness asks if he can kiss you, _you say yes_. Especially if he looks like Steve Rogers and asks with the sweetest smile on God’s green earth.

“I’m sure,” he finally says. “I just… was worried, is all. I didn’t want you to think I kicked you out.”

“You did kick me out,” Steve says, but he’s teasing. Sam hears rustling and the creak of cheap furniture as Steve sits up. “Do we need to talk about this? I mean, we didn’t talk much last night. I--maybe assumed some things--”

“I have nightmares,” Sam blurts, then wishes he could take it back. “Sometimes.”

“Oh, Sam.”

It’s not pity Sam hears. He doesn’t realize how much he dreaded that possibility until relief washes over him. “It’s no big deal,” he says, “just something that happens.”

“I know.” And Sam realizes Steve probably does know, from back in the days when they still called it shell-shock. “Part of what you bring back with you,” Steve says.

“Yeah. And I--it’s freaked out people before.”

“You were worried about freaking me out?”

Sam pauses. Answering ‘yes’ is saying more than he really wants to say. He could laugh it off, and they’d joke, and maybe what happened last night would never happen again. Or maybe it would, but it would never go beyond two buddies helping each other out. That might be for the best. They’ve got a long road ahead of them, looking for Bucky (and talk about a complication--Sam still isn’t sure what the past looks like there), trying to keep the world safe; maybe something beyond buddies is the wrong idea at the wrong time. He should laugh it off.

Instead of a joke though, what comes out of his mouth is, “Yeah. A little.”

“What if next time I promise not to freak out?” Steve asks. His tone is careful, like he’s testing pond ice in late March, seeing what will bear his weight.

“Wellll, I don’t know about you, but I feel like I could use a few more hours of sleep right about now,” Sam says, his heart pounding a little harder.

“You can drag yourself over here then,” Steve says. “You woke _me_ up, I’m not getting up and putting on clothes just to haul my ass over to your bed.”

The thought of Steve waiting for him in any bed, naked, makes him swallow hard.

When he doesn’t respond, Steve says, “That’s an order, soldier.”

“You know, you don’t actually outrank me,” Sam complains, but he’s already on his feet and scrabbling for the nearest pair of pants.

“You’ve got two minutes,” Steve says, then hangs up.

Sam makes it with time to spare.


End file.
